Restoration
by LilyBolt
Summary: "My doubts have long since grown into real fears. I look on my brother daily and see him withering away. I watch the strong man that had raised me deteriorate into a pale shade of the vibrant person he once was..." A oneshot from Sam's POV given in a sort of AU/post-show setting. Dean falls ill and Sam struggles to come to terms with this unfortunate turn of events. Not a slash.


**Author's Note: This story is totally random, but I had fun (and feels) while writing it. It starts about six months after the guys manage to lock Hell and Heaven somehow. Obviously I have no idea how the show ends, so I guess you could call this AU. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. **

**Special Thanks: jojospn. You once recommended I try to "step outside my comfort zone" for fun. This AU/post-show piece was my self-challenge in response to that recommendation, because as you know I am a stickler for trying to stay cannon. lol Thanks for all of your support and encouragement! You are awesome. :D **

**(And to anyone else reading this, please check out jojospn's work because I'm not kidding when I say she's awesome!)**

_**Restoration**_

* * *

When the diagnosis comes back it's almost laughable. Of all the things Dean has been through up to this point… Of all the times he had died gruesome, agonizing deaths… Well cancer just seems like such a small thing compared to it all.

I feel bad thinking this way. I know thousands of families have been torn apart by cancer. I know that to cancer survivors it's an accomplishment to have bested such a deadly foe. But the thing is that Dean has actually fought real foes before. Monsters, demons, angels, nightmares… You name it and he's stabbed it. I can't imagine something as common as a disease being the thing that finally gets the better of my big brother.

Dean is totally fine about it when the test results come back. As the doctor leaves us to "talk about this new development", Dean just gives me this amused look. "So cancer, huh?" he says. Like it's nothing at all. And after everything we have both been through, I guess it really feels that way. He actually laughs and says, "Could be worse." Just like that, all nonchalant. Face calm and collected, if not slightly humored. This is a battle he can win, and I know we both believe this firmly.

The clock starts ticking, and yet we both just sit here like it's an ordinary Friday.

* * *

Within the first three months it becomes obvious the less aggressive treatments aren't going as well as we had both hoped they would. The tumors are still spreading inside. Left with no other options, Dean starts chemotherapy.

I can tell that chemo isn't a walk in the park for my brother. Every day I begin to see more and more clearly the toll it is taking on him. His "I'm pretending this doesn't hurt for your sake" face becomes his regular appearance. But we don't talk about it. Not directly, anyway. I don't say anything when I realize he looks as pale and shaky as I had back when I had tried to complete those trials for Hell. He doesn't say anything when his hair starts to thin out.

He does make plenty of jokes though. He laughs about how the nurses at the hospital aren't hot enough, and how the food there tastes like warmed over road-kill. He jokes about having to watch bad-daytime television, and how I should pay a visit to Locks of Love because they would appreciate getting to snip away at some of the "damn shag-rug" I have on my head. He lays his fears out for me to read like a book, but he does it with a smile, and that makes it ok.

I can't tell him, but I'm starting to doubt it _will _all be ok. I fight the urge to panic. I have to keep believing that this thing can't beat us. Can't beat Dean. But the thought is there. An ever present shadow looming just behind the optimism and casual small-talk I cover it with. I'm sure he's reading my book of feelings too.

* * *

By month six I basically live in the hospital. It isn't like I have anywhere better to be. We are long past the regular visits, and have reached the point where Dean is a permanent resident at the medical establishment. And where Dean stays is the only place I want to be. My doubts have long since grown into real fears. I look on my brother daily and see him withering away. I watch the strong man that had raised me deteriorate into a pale shade of the vibrant person he once was.

One day I sit in the chair by Dean's bed and we watch some re-run of an episode of Jersey Shore. ("Look at this crap Sammy! Can you believe this garbage was ever on later than 3pm?") In this episode one of the typical drunken bimbos is explaining about why she dropped out of college, and suddenly Dean turns to me with this curious look on his face.

"Whatever happened to that plan Sammy?" he asks. His voice is weak, but even its raspy-ness can't cover the familiar tone of big-brotherly concern. "What plan?" I ask in response, but then I connect the dots and raise my eyebrows. "Wait, you mean going through college?" I add. His silence is my answer. "Dean, I'm way past thirty. I think it's a bit too late for me to go off to school. I'd be that one creepy old guy that every college has." I scoff but his face remains serious.

"I don't think it's too late Sam. And you don't have to go to a campus or anything. There are tons of online schools. And you can't deny that because I see the commercials for them all day long." He looks me in the eye as he speaks and the sincerity in his voice grabs me.

Somehow over the course of the next hour, Dean manages to completely change my opinion. The man who once resented my departure for Stanford successfully encourages me to look into online college classes. The next day I bring my laptop and we go through different virtual colleges trying to find the best one.

Within the month I am enrolled for the fall semester through one of the better online universities. When my first day of "school" rolls around, Dean teases me for setting up shop in his hospital room to do my work. "Dude, it's like you're inviting me to annoy the crap out of you." he jokes. But we both know I'm not leaving, and we both know he doesn't really want me to go anyway.

* * *

"You should ask her out Sammy!" Dean sounds a bit worse today. There is less consistency in his tone as he continues to try and convince me to go and talk to Rachel the cafeteria girl who flirted with me earlier that day. Actually, she has been flirting with me for months now but this time it was pretty obvious. My receipt today had her cell number on it and as soon as I told Dean about this he jumped on the chance to push me into the dating world.

Ever since we finished with locking Heaven and Hell, I guess things like dating have lost the appeal they used to hold for me. Normalcy like that actually kind of scares me now that I have a real shot at it. I guess I'm just not sure where to begin. But it doesn't matter anyway, because I don't want to run off with some girl while my brother is fighting a deadly disease alone in a hospital bed. He never abandoned me even when I wasn't there for him, so I'm definitely not planning on turning my back on him now.

But he's Dean, and I know he can figure out my reasons for not calling this girl up. I also know he won't stop nagging me until I do.

"Come on Sam! She's a hot chick and you've got nothing to lose." He states this argument like it's an incontrovertible piece of evidence to support his case. I want to say that I have time with _him_ to lose, but that seems like giving up talk and chick-flick talk all in one big bundle, and I know he won't tolerate either. Instead I shrug and tell him "She's not my type, Dean."

He just rolls his eyes. "Yeah…Because you're never interested in attractive women who are really shy and flirt quietly for months before finally working up the courage to make the message clear. You're much more into the confident one-night stands, right?" He smirks as my face goes red. He knows I like this girl. And he knows I'm flattered she's stayed interested for so long. But the worst part is that he knows I'm not going to be able to say no forever without eventually having to tell him why. He knows he's won. It's just a matter of waiting for me to admit it.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. With a dramatic sigh and my best bitchface I pull out my cell. "Fine." I say, and I try not to smile as I watch him punch the air to celebrate his victory, because I want to keep up the pretense that I'm annoyed by him.

He listens to my whole conversation with Rachel, and when I hang up the phone I see his face is more smug than it's been in way too long. I can't hold back the smile this time. It's good to see him being so _him_ about this.

* * *

It's been about a year and a half since the day that clock started ticking. Since that Friday when I underestimated just how hard cancer could really be to defeat. And at this point I would sell my soul to any takers, except there are no angels or demons left to deal. We have finally locked them all away what seems to me now like eons ago, but was merely a couple years prior. So there will be no deals to save my brother's life. No miracles to heal him.

Rachel, who is now my girlfriend, has just left from her visit with us. I sit next to Dean's bed trying to focus on finishing a final paper before its due date at midnight. I had tried to drop out of my classes when Dean took a turn for the worse not long ago, but he practically threatened to disown me just for having suggested giving up on my education. Needless to say I kept the classes.

I feel eyes staring at me as I work, and when I glance up I see he has this weird look on his face. It's the look he gets when he finishes tuning the Impala or cleaning one of his beloved firearms. Like he knows something was a job well done. I'm not understanding the context of that look, but before I can say anything he beats me to the punch.

"I'm proud of you Sammy." He says it in a matter of fact way that makes my heart swell and break at the same time. "For what?" I ask with genuine confusion. He waves his hand toward my laptop. "For this. You. Your life." He smiles as he speaks.

I'm kind of taken aback. "It's just online college Dean. I think most people would say I need to _get_ a life." I joke. He waves his hand again, this time dismissing me. "Nah. I mean you've finally got it all. You're going to school and you've got a girlfriend. You've got the life you always deserved. Or the makings of it anyway."

"Dean…" I begin to say. My voice cracks and I swallow hard. I've caught on to what he's getting at here. "I don't want to do this talk. You're not giving me the farewell speech. I'm not doing that." I try and make my voice sound firm or teasing, but I think it sounds more pleading than anything else. "Who says it's a farewell speech? I'm just pointing out facts." He replies. That smile is still there. It's like he's blossoming with pride as I'm slowly wilting from grief.

But then his expression gets softer. The glint of pride is still there but sorrow now dulls the gleam. I know the speech is coming anyway.

"It was always going to be something Sammy, and between you and me I'm ok with it being this. It's damn slow but at least I'm not leaving a mess for you to clean up this time. I'm leaving you a life."

And suddenly I'm unable to speak. Because Dean, who has been infuriatingly calm through this whole process, has been calmly thinking about my future as opposed to his own. I look back over the past year and a half in my mind. I remember Dean convincing me to start taking online classes. I recall him pushing me to ask out Rachel back when she was just the cafeteria girl. I realize what he's been doing this whole time.

He's been setting me up for a life he doesn't believe he'll be a part of. He has thought from the start that he's probably going to die but he didn't want to leave me with nothing. He couldn't risk what that would mean for me. So he's been leaving me a life. The normal life I always told him I wanted, complete with an education and a woman to love. The one I know he feels like he robbed me of. He's making amends and I can't let him think like that.

"I've always had a life Dean." I say when I finally manage to find my voice. "A great life. You've never given me anything less than the best of anything you had to offer." He laughs. "I know Sammy. But we both know that ain't exactly been much."

"It's been everything Dean." I say, and I hope he understands how honest I'm being. I think he does because I see that he's smiling again. Proud.

* * *

I'm kneeling in the chapel feeling worse than I've felt in years. The latest tests came back and it's not good. It's more 'not good' than it's been up to this point, and they've actually told us to start making plans for the "most likely outcome". Dean was just as calm about this news as he's been about this whole process, but I went after the doctor demanding he tell me there was something we could try. Anything. I guess I kind of lost it on him. But still he said we could only continue on the same course and hope for a turn around. A miracle.

But I know that's not an option. I know because all the ones who used to make 'miracles' happen are now locked up in Heaven or Hell. Safe and sound and far away from the Earth. They can't cause any more damage here, but they can't fix any more damage either. They can't save Dean. So I guess I know there's no point to my kneeling and praying, but I'm doing it anyway. I'm desperate.

"God." I begin my prayer, my voice hollow as I speak His name. "I know we've had our differences. I know I let go of my faith in you a long time ago… You'd think it was the Hell trials that did it, but in all honesty it was long before that. I stopped trusting you the day I realized you didn't care that the apocalypse almost happened. That you had allowed my brother to get dragged to Hell just to fulfill one of your big plans." The resentment is creeping into my tone and I do my best to push it down. I mean to make this prayer polite. I fail.

"I never forgave you for what you allowed him to go through, and I honestly still haven't." My voice cracks. The anger I harbor at this whole situation is bubbling and I can't seem to stop it from boiling over. "But I also believe that it's true you created man in your image. And if that's the case, then you've got a conscience just like the rest of us. You've got to feel guilt too. So I'm begging you, please. Make it up to me now. Save him this time. He gave everything for this world. He did the job you were supposed to do. He protected your people and has saved more lives than anyone I know! He saved mine too many times to count. And I can't…I can't…"

The tears start to fall and I am powerless to stop them. "I can't lose him. _God, _I just can't. Not after all we've been through. It's not fair to him. He gave everything. He fought for this world, and he _deserves _to have some time in it to enjoy it. Damn it he deserved better than anything you ever gave him, but this? He definitely deserves more than this!"

I'm a mess of tears now, shoulders quaking as sobs rack my body, but my anger is fading out. Anger takes too much effort and my sadness saps me of the energy to be mad.

"Please God. A miracle. You owe him that much. We both do._ Please_…" I finish my prayer there. There really is nothing more for me to say.

* * *

When I return to Dean's room twenty minutes later he's watching me carefully. I know he can tell I've been crying. It would take a blind person to miss the redness in my eyes. I wait for him to scold me or to crack a joke. He doesn't do either.

"Come here." he says, gesturing for me to come and sit next to him on the bed. I wander over and take the seat he offers. I don't have it in me to disobey. And suddenly his arms are around me. Given his weakened state, he holds me with impressive strength.

And for just a moment I'm six years old again. I had a nightmare and I woke up to find my big brother ready to comfort me. It was all just a bad dream and Dean is there to show me that I'm safe. He rubs my back and tells me that "It's ok. It's all going to be ok." But this nightmare won't end. Dean is dying and I'm going to lose the safety I've always known. It is so far from ok.

I don't know how long we stay like this. All I know is that I stop being able to hold it all in again, but he doesn't stop being able to hold me there with him.

* * *

It's not even a week from that day when everything happens. I'm trying not to cry when I finally hear the news, but I'm crying a little anyway. I know Dean would call me a girl for getting so emotional but I think at this point I've earned the right. Because he came so close… Another couple of days and that would have been that.

But instead they're all gone. Every tumor, lesion, lump…Gone. The cancer just up and vanished, and my brother is still alive to smirk at me and laugh as he watches me have what he calls "A Hallmark Channel Moment". But although he pokes fun at me for crying, I see the mist in his eyes too.

I know he's mostly happy for me. Even nearly dying from cancer can't get him to put his priorities straight. But now I have the opportunity to help fix that.

* * *

I'm in the chapel again. My hands are clasped and my head is bowed. I'm trying my best to exemplify the behavior of a good church-going man. It feels unfamiliar to me and I realize just how many years have passed since I quit praying. Quit having faith.

But my faith has been restored today because I can't say Dean's recovery was anything short of the miracle I had begged God for. I spend a moment struggling to find the right way to express my gratitude.

"Thank you for Dean." I finally say. It's a simple sentence but those four words are filled with every ounce of sincerity I can muster and I'm pretty sure God knows how much I mean them.

Content that my point has been made, I leave the chapel quietly and walk back toward the hospital room where I know Dean is waiting impatiently to be discharged so he can get behind the wheel of his precious Baby again. I walk back towards the future my brother gave me, and the immense relief of knowing God finally gave Dean the chance to be a part of it too.

* * *

**Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Just to clarify in case anyone is wondering, ****Castiel did not make an appearance because in this sort of AU/post-show situation I created, he ended up getting his grace back and locking himself in Heaven with the rest of the angles. He didn't really have a choice. Anyway, thanks again and please feel free to leave feedback! It is greatly appreciated. :D **


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